Only a Moment
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: Suppose Lisbon did speak up first? Would it have to be awkward, or does she have some skills, too? Is he ready for her? Taggish: Scenes in "Silver Wings of Time" lead to a different outcome. One-shot. Surely AU. Warning! Adult sexual situations. If you don't like that stuff, don't read this. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.


Jane had barely managed to keep his patience. It had taken several breaths for him to contain it, none of them really controlled until the last, risking hyperventilation. He still felt light-headed but he wasn't sure it was all due to rapid shallow breathing. When they were at the doorstep, he took as deep a breath as he could through his constricted chest, sensed Lisbon turning her eyes to him and composed his face as best he could.

Lisbon had challenged him, rightly assuming he was upset about her taking the phone call from Pike and arranging their next date boldly in front of him. "What?!"

"Nothing. Nothing." His face was barely controlled and his voice was high.

Their quarry answered the door.

Later as he followed Lisbon to the car, her back inordinately stiff and her shoulders held too high, he had to say something. Flaunting her relationship with Pike was more than he could cope with. She seemed determined to provoke him with it.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Jane closed the door. "Uh, Lisbon. I have to ask a favor of you."

Her look was skeptical, almost a glare. She waited silently, looking at him with suppressed annoyance.

Jane spoke calmly. "In future, when you take a personal call from Pike like that, I'd appreciate it if you kept it personal and out of my hearing."

"Yeah?" Her response wasn't defiant exactly, but clearly stubborn.

"Yes. Step away or let it go to voicemail or just tell him you'll call back. I'd really appreciate it. Makes me uncomfortable. Hostile work environment and all that."

"Are you kidding me? Hostile work environment? I guess I should have been filing complaints on you for years."

"This is different. You know it."

"You did the same with Krystal."

"That was part of a ruse, setting up a play to catch her, _a criminal_." He gave Lisbon a hard stare. "It was not an ongoing relationship and you know it. But if it makes you feel better, I promise not to take personal calls from girlfriends in front of you."

"Girlfriends? You have no one."

Their silence was the vacuum at the detonation of a bomb as each considered the meaning of her words.

Jane looked down and away, somber. "Yeah."

"Jesus, Jane. I'm sorry. I didn't mean-. Of course. I'll do that. Keep my personal calls private."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, Jane looking out his window and Lisbon with her head a dead weight in her hand, elbow jammed on the ledge of her window, frowning and dewy-eyed.

The evening of her date caught Jane just settled on his couch with a book, eyes closed. Lisbon, in a hurry, thinking he was asleep, tried to tip-toe in heels, drawing his attention right away. His heart nearly stopped. She was gorgeous, so beautiful, and for another man. He was losing her, and it was right for her to go where she could find happiness, even of a lesser order than perhaps he and Lisbon could have had. Who was he fooling? His broken life was the last place she would look for love and romance, for shelter and stability.

She started in dismay when he spoke to her, assuming he would tease her or say something derogatory about her date. But no. He made her stop, see he was serious, and told her she was beautiful. The pleasure of it was unexpected, a little thrill that ran throughout her nervous system. Guilt pinged her chest and back as she turned to go, knowing she was hurting him. But she was hurting, too. Someone had to break the unending cycle of waiting and it had to be her. Because Jane obviously was content to let her go. How could he?

Over the next few days, the sad sinking feeling inside Lisbon would not leave. They had to talk. And since he would never initiate, she would have to.

Their next slow day at work, Jane drove his Airstream into the parking lot and hooked up the electricity. He stayed in it all day. Lisbon went down to him at dusk after everyone else had left, insects and birds noisy in the vast expanse of asphalt shedding heat from a sultry day. There was a light at what she knew to be the kitchen window and the air conditioner hummed atop the RV.

The couch creaked as Jane got up to respond to her quiet knock. His smile was big and genuine when he saw her, zinging like an arrow into her heart.

"Lisbon! It's good to see you. Come in."

Her green eyes took him in, her friend. Jane seemed thinner without his suit coat. His hair was a tousled and squashy mess. She smiled warmly at him. "Hi, Jane. I thought I'd better check to be sure you're still alive out here."

He just looked at her, smiling under sad eyes that were – longing? For her? "Really, I thought you might make me a cup of coffee."

They held each other's eyes a moment more. Then Jane moved toward the little Keurig he kept there for her. He was so sweet that way.

"Love to. Have a seat." A touch of sadness tempered his joy, realizing that he'd have to check his memory palace to remember when she had last just visited with him.

Lisbon sat at the table and watched him as he worked. His trousers were a little baggy, too.

Jane caught her frown when he turned to bring her cup. "What is it?"

"You look like you've lost weight, Jane. A little too much." She raised her eyes to look carefully in his. His face seemed a little thinner, too. "Are you eating well?"

"Meh. I guess. I eat when I'm hungry."

"Are you hungry less?" She felt a little guilty when she realized that she had not noticed his condition because she generally avoided looking at him at all nowadays.

He said nothing until he sat across from her with a cup of tea. "I can tell you want me to be honest, Lisbon. It's true. I don't have much of an appetite these days."

"You're naturally sleek, Jane. If you lose weight, you risk being skinny."

"Is this the reason for your visit, to talk to me about my possible weight loss?"

Lisbon cleared her throat. "I'm ashamed to say . . . I just noticed it, watching you now. I should have noticed sooner . . . been a better friend."

Jane stared at his cup while he stirred his tea, enjoying the aroma of the rising steam. "You can't always look after me. You've been busy. You have a life to live." He looked in her eyes, sincerity and sadness as deep as she could see. "That's important, Lisbon."

"Yes. It is." She held his gaze and bit her lower lip, not wanting to continue with what was on her mind. "I've been wanting to talk to you. About that, I guess. But it's hard."

He reached over to give her lower arm a little squeeze. His hand was large and warm. And comforting. She was glad he hadn't touched her hand, too sensitive there right now to bear it. He took his hand away and folded it with the other one on the tabletop, waiting for Lisbon to continue.

"Actually, the deeper in I get with Marcus, the more I think about you."

Jane shook his head grimly, hiding his surprise at the same time. He was not expecting that. Somewhere in his belly, embers long banked, flared. "You shouldn't worry about me so much that it gets in the way of the relationship you've chosen. I'll be fine."

"It isn't worry and I haven't chosen anything. I'm confused. And hurting." She gave him an accusing, pouty look. "And you need to tell me the truth!"

How could he tell her the truth? He'd be groveling at her feet in seconds. "Well, I will be fine. I'll have to be," he said defensively. She was hurting? The last thing he suspected. "I know I don't see you as much as I used to, but you seem happy about that part of your life now. I didn't know you were feeling bad. How can I help?"

"By telling me the truth." God. She wanted to just crawl into his lap and make him wrap his arms around her and talk to her in the sweet voice he was using now!

Jane melted at her imploring look. "Of, of . . . of course, Teresa. I will be truthful. This sounds important."

"It is." Lisbon took several deep breaths, trying to make a start while Jane quietly waited. When they were looking in each other's eyes, she said, "How do you feel about me, Patrick?"

Jane blinked and froze, except to let a small smile form and settle. Patrick. She said Patrick. Lisbon was asking him how he felt about her . . . personally. He had to say something before she mistook his silence for discomfort. "You've never talked to me by my first name before." Stalling for the right words to answer her question.

"It's important right now. And it's how I think of you, sitting here with me."

"I'm glad. It feels like . . . more than friends. You've called me Jane as a friend forever. And I love to hear your voice with my name in it, even when you're angry at me. But Patrick. That's more. More than friends. I feel the same way about you, Teresa."

"More than friends?"

"Yes."

She waited impatiently for him to continue, then yielded. "How much more?" It seemed like everything depended on his answer.

Tilting his head, Jane's eyes lit over a spreading, tight-lipped smile., looking away from her at first. Then, meeting her questioning eyes, his heart disappeared in a mist and an overwhelming joy filled his chest. "Like your questions are making my life, right now."

"No slippery talk, Jane. I mean it. Talk to me straight."

All the feeling Jane had been trying to control by tamping his breath down began to effervesce against his will. Words bubbled up from the expanding joy in his chest. "What I feel about you is . . . that I can't live without you. That I want you to be happy, even if it's without me. Knowing you're happy will be some comfort but I will be lonely for the rest of my life, pining for you. Don't make me think about it. I have no life without you."

Okay. He needed her. "Because . . . "

"Because I love you. I love you. Every minute. I always want to be with you. The best parts of my life happen when I'm with you, Teresa. You're my compass. You feel like half my body. How can I live with only half my body if you go away?"

Lisbon stared at the table in shock, her eyes wide and her lips parted. What he just said! He loved her! He needed her to complete his body? Did he mean . . . ? She chose her words carefully, braving the most deeply personal secrets between them. "Patrick. It almost sounds like you want our bodies . . . to be joined." She looked at him calmly but everything under her skin was chaos and she blushed furiously. Maybe he was just talking figuratively.

Jane took her hands now, covering them completely with the shell of his own, his sheltering touch traveling her arms all the way to her neck and face.

"I do. I want to be joined with you in every way. In any way you'll have me. But I won't take you away from what makes you happy. I want to make you happy. I would spend every moment thinking of ways to make you happy. But I wouldn't steal you from happiness you already have or have chosen for yourself."

She hung her head a little. "I don't know how happy I am. But I am having a little fun. Marcus is already getting serious. He's so open about what he feels for me. But . . ." It took her a moment to continue. "I've been trying to make it work. Just push everything aside and enjoy him, enjoy the attention. I thought it would make me forget about you, it would be good for me. And . . . and I wanted you to be jealous and speak for me. Now I guess I know why you haven't. You wanted me to have a chance at happiness-"

"Yes! More than my own. You deserve it, Teresa."

"Because you love me . . . "

"Yes. With all my heart. Everything I am wants you to be happy."

"I don't think I can be happy without you."

Tears sprang to his eyes as his heart pumped wild abandon into his blood. Any wish that had mattered since he knew her was about to be granted by the precious woman whose hands he now held over the small table. "If you chose me, I won't be the easy choice, I know. But I would spend my every waking moment, and even my dreams at night, finding ways to make you happy. Because . . . " He tugged gently on her hands to get her to look at him. "Because that would make me happy, too. I would feel like a good man."

Her eyes watered and her brow wrinkled in pain. "You are a good man, Patrick. And I believe I couldn't be truly happy with anyone else. Marcus might turn out to be a fine, loving partner. But he would always be second best. I didn't mean to, but I hoped you would react and, and . . . claim me. I know that sounds stupid and archaic . . . "

"No. It sounds beautiful to me, confusing for you, all mixed up and painful and full of life. You don't know how happy you've made me by being brave enough to speak. I didn't want to spoil it for you. And anyway . . . you know I'm a coward. You're my strength, my protection."

"You _are_ so beautiful, Jane. When you tell the truth you shine for me."

They smiled at each other across the table and squeezed their hands tighter.

Lisbon said, "I'm sorry for Marcus."

"You used him?"

"Yes."

Her brave face dissolved into a mask of distress. Trying hard to control it, soon her lips were quivering as tears ran down her cheeks. Poor Lisbon. She had only used the oldest trick in history to force her man's intentions. She was legions of women. And men. But leave it to Teresa to feel incredibly guilty for it.

"You did this for me?"

She shook her head. "Not exactly." Then nodded it. Then shook it again. "Not completely." Now she looked at Jane, her eyes big and bright with tears, her lower lip stuck out and trembling for her confession. "Not on purpose. If it had worked out with Marcus, that would have been okay." Lisbon broke into a full cry and settled into choking sobs. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, almost a shout, "That's a lie! I didn't want it to work out with him. I used him! I did it for you." Wailing now. "But I didn't mean to. I was mad, and it just happened. And Marcus was nice to me, so open with his feelings." She settled into snuffling, looking at their entwined fingers.

He put his hands lightly on her arms and petted them soothingly. "Lisbon. I'm flattered. It makes me feel happy."

With a sharp, bubbling sniff, she looked at him, eyes narrowed. "Yes, but you have no conscience!"

Smiling a little, he dropped his eyes from hers and patted her arms, gently. "Yes. Well. Thank you for that frank assessment. But you're a little bit off. It's not that I have _no_ conscience . . . "

"I'm sorry. I know you have a conscience about some things. Many things. Just not in a competition."

"You think I've been in a competition?"

Lisbon stamped her foot hard under the table, then got up, her arms crossed, fire glimmering through the tears. "No!" She glared at him. "But you should have!"

"You told me you wanted to run your life, for me to stop trying to control you or you'd cut me out of your life."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"You sure fooled me. I took it very seriously. Perhaps you can imagine now what it did to me when you said you wanted to go back to Cannon River and be rid of me for good."

"I know. And you only made me madder. You turned it into the only thing I ever said, the only thing that ever mattered. And I stayed, didn't I? You got me a good job!"

"Lisbon. You're a mess. You know that, right? Your threat to leave me . . . I know you can see why I couldn't risk telling you how deeply in love with you I am. Why didn't you say something about how you felt?" He stood and walked out, arms reaching for her.

She tried to take a step back but he held her arms at her half-hearted struggle. Sparks flew from her eyes. "You figure it out!"

"No. Don't pull away. Please. I just now have you in my arms. I'm sorry. Love made you a mess. Just like it has me., and I just made it worse for you."

She stopped struggling and looked at Jane.

"It's a given that I'm a mess," he said. "We both know that. None of this is your fault. It's me all the way."

"No, it isn't. It's me, too. But I couldn't speak, first. You know it. I had to know you were ready to move on . . . with me. When you never spoke for me, I had to believe the worst. That you . . . didn't want me."

"I hate that I made you feel so bad. But I would have responded to you. Did respond to you because you did speak first . . . now."

"I don't know if I'm braver or just more desperate."

"Braver. Definitely. And now I'm the happiest man alive to know that the woman I love with everything I am might love me, too."

"Well . . . be happy, then. Because I love you. Helplessly, Jane. I can't change it. I've tried."

"Not so helpless." Jane inched his fingers slowly around her shoulders. "I'm about to kiss you, so if you need to pull back . . . "

Lisbon stepped forward and sighed as Jane's arms wrapped her back. She slid her arms around his waist, feeling muscle ripple as he moved in her arms. She lifted her head to look at him. He turned down to her and they held each other's eyes in an open, relaxed gaze, varied hues of green lights everywhere. Mingling magnetic heat drew them closer as Jane lowered his head and Lisbon closed her eyes.

The sweetness of their first kiss threatened to overwhelm them both with joy and relief. Then Lisbon moved closer and felt the firmness between Jane's legs pressing low on her belly. She gasped and raised her hands to caress and hold his head as she opened her lips, inviting him into her mouth, warm and soft and ready to consume anything he gave her. Angling his head more, he pressed his tongue, so broad and thick, inquisitive, into her heat and tasted every surface as she captured him to suck, then release, and recapture the hot muscle. Moaning, she gently gripped his neck.

Pulling her closer lifted her to her toes, so he bent down, her tender, full breasts pressed to his upper chest between his embracing arms and shoulders. If they could be his pillows, he'd never have another sleepless night! He pushed his nose into her cleavage, nuzzling, breathing in the scent of her soft skin, settling to suck and nibble a nipple through her clothing.

Lisbon let out a choking gasp, slipping from their embrace, standing back with arms gapping her body a little and a surprised look that turned feral before his eyes. "What is it?"

Her mouth curled into a smile that matched the look in her eyes. A lioness, aroused. Her face was bright pink, her breathing loud and heavy. "I'm wet! Soaking."

Taking her in his arms again, he whispered near her ear, "Gushing . . . the way you tell me unravels me. I want you, now! Anywhere! Choose a surface."

"Your bed." The passion in her body threatened to overwhelm her. Moving out of his arms, she loosened a few buttons of her blouse.

Watching her start to pant and flush brightly, Jane quickly moistened a clean hand towel with cold water, blotting her face and neck with it, then lifted her hair to put the cool cloth on her nape.

He took her hand. "Come on. We need to get you out of your clothes."

She looked at him with a sly grin and he waggled his eyebrows. Her eyes caught the bulge in his trousers and putting a hand over him, she petted, feeling his flesh swell as he sighed. "This is hot, too. I want to see."

"Then all clothes come off before we get into bed." He led her to the back and opened the door to the tiny room.

She chuckled, a rich low vibration. "Is this your lair? it's all bed. Like a playpen for lovers."

"For us."

Lisbon took off her pants and jacket, undid her bra and brought it out through the bottom of her blouse, then sat cross-legged on the bed to satisfy her intense curiosity of what was under his suits. When he came back from the island, he had stopped wearing a vest and, for a while, wore an extra unbutton. She had stolen many glances at the bit of chest he displayed, enticing,

Dilated eyes followed the lines of his beautiful form. The more she saw of him, the more self-conscious she became. His was a classic beauty, from the toes on his large blocky feet, up the sleek legs and impossibly round rump to his broad back and rusty curls. Even his manhood was classically formed, compact with the balls dense and close to his body. His arousal was obvious as he stripped, watching her stare at him with pleasure. She watched him lengthen and thicken impossibly from the beginning firmness she had felt when they were kissing to the meaty cock pointing at her now.

She swallowed and licked her lips. The eyes she cast upward to him were anxious, unsure. She felt she was not beautiful in the same sense that he was. Unconsciously, she hugged her stomach and drew her legs up.

Jane watched her retreat with alarm. While he didn't know the reason for it, her self-consciousness was written in her entire posture and facial expression. He hoped she would not completely withdraw from their lovemaking. Approaching cautiously, he slid onto the bed, lying on his side. When he saw her draw in even further, he put his arm carefully around her compact form and scooted her in close, making a protective, warm shell. She didn't struggle against the closeness, but didn't look at him either. The last thing he wanted to do was question her. His heart went out to her, streaming affection and love.

He started kissing her knees, picking up the scent of her arousal, caught and concentrated by the fabric of her panties. He longed to find the wet that she had said gushed from her core. He talked about the beautiful shape of her legs, their warmth and softness. His erect cock lay against her bare foot, brushing her as he moved. She lifted her foot, letting it roll and slide, watching as she moved its weight back and forth on top, then started petting him with her toes. He sighed in pleasure.

"Such beautiful feet, Teresa. When you touch my cock with them, I want them in my hands, kissing them.

She settled on her back, then, knees still up, her fingers idly fluffing his hair, an invitation for him to make love to her feet. He lifted each one, holding back nothing in his desire to reach her and discover her sensitivities. When he heard her breath fall into a loud rhythm and saw her hips begin to undulate, he pressed his fingers on the crotch of her panties, rubbing lightly up and down. Moisture soaked through the silk and lay slick on the surface, growing as he pressed harder.

When she started to moan, he bore down with his teeth on the meaty edge of her foot and rubbed her sex over her panties, concentrating on the stiff bump of her clit that sat at the apex. She groaned loudly and he bit harder, chewing slow and easy all along its edge, no jerky or sharp movements and rubbed her clit faster until she broke in a cry that could have been pain, but wasn't.

Jane moved up the bed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her and unbuttoning her blouse, kissing her even as he drew a sharp breath and filled his hands with her luscious round breasts. The skin was soft and warm, tipped by hard little nipples that stood tall when he rubbed them, his thumb pressing and rolling a little bud against the crook of his finger.

Lisbon looked at him then, eyes dark and full of desire, watching his face as he touched her, seeing wonder and want. "My panties . . . "

He immediately took them down, breathing her arousal afresh, stronger. "You smell so good, Teresa. You make me feel like a caveman." He could feel his cock pulsate and knew he must be dripping. He wouldn't last a minute inside her.

Stroking her hips, he told her how shapely they were and her hips jutted as he continued. When she settled, she parted her legs a little and he rested a hand on the delta of her sex, but looked at her face instead. She was flushed, cheeks and eyes bright with passion and fire. Her hair was fluffed, already love-mussed from hands wandering into locks as they kissed. Her lips plumped, her tongue peeked out to wet them.

"You're so beautiful to look at, Teresa. Everywhere I look, I fall in love with that place, with you.

A sliver of sunlight struck auburn sparks into her hair. She smiled at him, her little white teeth peeking from her upper lip. With a loud groan, Jane started kissing her again as she steadied them with hands tight on the meat of his shoulders. He felt her hips rise and push into his hand. Moving his lips to her neck, he dipped his fingers lower and found her wet heat, pushing a finger inside to explore her. Her sigh was a thrill in disguise, tremulous as she opened her legs wider and pushed his finger deeper. "Patrick . . . more!"

Inserting another finger he began to stroke her inside, curling them as he rubbed until he found a place that made her cry out, pushing her hands against the mattress and then panting softly. Her inner walls started to grip his fingers as she continued to move, so he took them out. She was so very close to climax, and he wouldn't last long.

Teresa opened her eyes to see him smiling at her.

"Are you ready for me?"

Smiling, she nodded. "Yes. Please hurry. I want you, I'm aching inside, I'm so close."

Patrick brought his hips up so that she could see his state of extreme arousal.

She saw he was red and veiny, so full of blood he looked ready to explode as his lubrication ran off the tip like tears of want. She craved every bit of him.

I think it's going to be fast." He smiled at her, but she could see a little anxiety in his eyes.

"Oh, I hope so! I can't wait another minute. Please." She opened even more. "Now."

He lowered his hand and thumbed her slippery clit gently several times.

"Paaaatrick! Now!"

Plunging all the way into her, he rested, trying to recover from the insane stimulation, embedded in her hot glove, rippling wetly all around him as he grunted softly in her ear. He felt his mind let go, his body dissolve into feverish energy and feral want. Still, he rested in her, not daring to move.

The attempt to adjust to the fullness inside her, muscles touching him like fingers, grabbing him, tripped Teresa into orgasm without Patrick moving at all. Her back rose to a beautiful arch and she groaned, contracting, the rhythm pulling her core and gripping him in place.

Nearly in extremis, lost in her, in loving her, he pulled back a little and started moving, thrusting gently through her contractions as her muscles tried to pull him back in, her swollen vault too slippery to hold him. Before she had finished, he was pumping forcefully and when she came again, he went with her, his entire sexual anatomy fizzing with the rush of orgasm. "Oh, my god! Teresa!" He held her tight, as his body emptied everything he was inside her, juices running out and soaking them both. She spoke love into his ear as her fingers burrowed through his hair. Soothing, healing love.

They lay together afterwards, the only sounds the soft kissing of whatever was in reach, little hums of satisfaction and happiness, occasional words of love. Lisbon moved to get up, gathering her clothes.

Jane bolted up and sat cross-legged on the bed, his mouth open in protest. "Are you leaving already?'

"I am. Are you coming home with me?"

He hopped up, smiling broadly. "Of course! Are you hungry?"

"Starving!"

"Me, too. Let's order take out and pick it up on our way."

"Thai?"

"Mmmm. And lots of it! Someone told me I needed to put on a little weight."

Catching him before he could put his underwear on, she drew him close and fondled both cheeks of his ass, squeezing and kneading. She shivered as he stiffened and pushed against her. "Who told you that?"

"Oh," he said, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Someone who loves me."

"Then you'd better listen, Patrick."

"Right now that someone is making me think of other things."

"Oh, she is, too." She pressed her hips against him, pinning his stiffie. "Dessert!" She let him go and stepped away.

"I'm definitely saving room for that!"

He locked up the Airstream and they walked to her car, his arm comfortably around her shoulder. His steps were punctuated by bending to kiss the side of her head or whisper something into her ear that made her squeeze his waist tighter.

They looked like any couple in love.


End file.
